


Love Crime

by dancey94



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Affection, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, M/M, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Violence, Will's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> <br/>“May I join you?” I hear someone say and I lift my head. A man is standing by Hannibal’s seat and is apparently trying to sit at our table.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I’m sorry. I’m with a friend.” I answer and the man smiles.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“I know. I saw you walk in and I have to say you made quite an impression on me.”<br/></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Crime

I hear myself gasp as I wake up. Slowly, I open my eyes to see the new day and the first thing I notice is the light coming through the window. It’s grey, gloomy. It’s raining; I hear the raindrops batter the windowsill. Today is not a day for hunting: people will be in their homes or in pubs, generally in closed public spaces. Today may be about luring people out. If we are in the mood.

I know Hannibal is still asleep even before I turn to face him. I hear his slow, steady breathing. It even came to the point when I can feel his heartbeat when we’re next to each other. I can feel it now. Every time when he puts his hand on my chest or I put mine on his, I’m glad we survived. It often appears like a dream to me – the knowledge that we’re still alive and well. I sometimes don’t believe it and he can sense it. He tries to reassure me, tries to ground me in reality. We talk a lot and he teaches me plenty of things. He even tried explaining maths to me. He failed. I’ll never follow his way of thinking, not in complex and complicated mathematical formulas.

I support my head on my elbow and look at him. It’s been a few months since we landed here and I keep wondering whether we’ll ever leave. Not that I want that. I’m happy here. Hannibal is still teaching me the language but I’m capable of going shopping on my own. I enjoy the city being impersonal. I even started chatting to strangers on the street or in the shops. They can’t do anything about it.

Hannibal’s face remains calm, his eyes closed, and unaware yet of the morning around us. His lips are slightly parted, breathing in the air, and revealing a small part of his sharp teeth. How did we end up like this? How did I end up mesmerized by this man and let him do things to me I always found unimaginable?

Too much alcohol, probably. I can’t even remember so that would be a proof of that hypothesis.

I mean, I almost kissed him on the cliff but something stopped me in the nick of time. Then we took care of each other and there were plenty of touches and affectionate caresses but we never crossed the line. I only watched him change my bandage and then I changed his, never taking my eyes off of his broad chest. I wasn’t jealous. Not of his body, at least. I was flooded with lust. I would rather have him than be him.

I used to live alone and be the master in my own home. Then Hannibal showed up and so many things changed. And for the first time in my life I wanted someone, well, Hannibal, to take care of me. I like seeing myself as a strong personality but sometimes, mostly in the evenings, I enjoy lying by his side and curling to his muscled arms. How did that happen?

His mouth suck in more air and I know he’s waking up. His eyes open and he looks at me. A faint smile forms on his lips as he sees me and I can’t help but smile back. It’s not the first time we wake up together and yet every cell in my body trembles upon experiencing this. I like imagining Hannibal being a husband and father and having this kind of peaceful life with someone else. Could he have this with Alana? No. There’s no easy and peaceful life for him.

“It’s raining. Maybe we could stay in bed today…” I propose, a playful yet coy smile on my face and he extends his hand to stroke my hair falling into my eyes. We both grew softer around the edges, we both surrendered. I can sometimes feel his anger at himself that he allowed this to happen but he doesn’t regret. He looks at me and blinks as if not completely trusting what he was seeing.

Hannibal’s eyes are focused solely on me. Even when we are in the city I know he’s looking at me as if checking if I’m still there with him, still by his side.

“Are you perfectly certain that’s what you wish to do?” he asks me and I want to laugh. We’re not young anymore and I want to see him try pleasing me more than thrice (oh god, that night will forever be the best and the worst of my life).

I lean over his face and kiss him gently good morning. No. We will not spend the whole day lying lazily in bed. We’ll take a shower, make breakfast and finally he’ll convince me to go to the city in the evening. And I’m alright with that plan.

~~~~~~~~~~

“May I join you?” I hear someone say and I lift my head. A man is standing by Hannibal’s seat and is apparently trying to sit at our table. He’s speaking English, why?

“I’m sorry. I’m with a friend.” I answer and the man smiles.

“I know. I saw you walk in and I have to say you made quite an impression on me.”

“We’re flattered but unfortunately I’ll have to ask you to find another table.” I say, confidently. What does this man want?

“You sure you don’t want me to join you? I may prove worthy of your time.” The man says and pulls back his jacket enough for me to see a gun underneath. He’s armed. He wants me to know he’s dangerous. Is he? He clearly knows about me and Hannibal. Have we met before?

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, sir, but if you don’t leave me and my friend alone I’ll inform the waiter that you are armed and he’ll call the police. Do you want that? Do you want it to spread like a virus?” I threaten him. Maybe not the wisest move but better not to show we’re afraid. If he’s impulsive, he’ll do something reckless. If he’s not, he’ll drop it.

I look at him, directly into his eyes, and wait. The challenge seems to have thrown him off balance but he pretends to remain calm. I see him mull over what I said. There are consequences to his every choice. _What did you expect?_ What does he want?

I see Hannibal in the corner of my eye and the man just disappears before my eyes. We finish our dinner; Hannibal doesn’t ask about the man, pretending he didn’t notice him but I know he did. I know we’ll have to find him before he hurt us or someone else. Call me a prophet but I knew even this morning that the day would end like this.

We take our coats and leave the restaurant. During a walk to the park I tell Hannibal about the man and his intentions.

“Did you recognise him?” Hannibal asks and I try to flick through an album of every person I ever met. No. Definitely a stranger. His blonde hair and dark eyes seemed out of place but there was something strangely familiar about the man.

“Could it be possible he’s your relative?” I ask and a frown on Hannibal’s face says it all.

“I have no relatives left.”

“Are you perfectly certain about it?”

“What was it about him that makes you ask?”

“I don’t know. A particular quality that I can’t quite put my finger on right now.”

Hannibal nods and looks around. We suspect the man may be following us. If he really wants something, that is. He’s carrying a gun so that gives him advantage. There’s two of us and he’s most probably alone. I could sense his loneliness under the confident pose when he was speaking to me. Maybe he’s not so dangerous after all. But did he expect we’d allow him to our pact and take care of him?

Hannibal points at a bench fairly far from any source of light, the closest lamp is off – the lightbulb must have blew. We sit down and look at the trees. They’ll be shedding leaves soon. Hannibal is a hunter: he’ll sense the man as soon as he’ll be near us. I have that kind of radar, too, but it works differently.

“He’ll be waiting for us at home.” I say. The man knows us, he knows who he’s dealing with. If he’s interested in any way, he’s not going to stalk us, follow us to a park for a conversation. He needs a more private place.

Hannibal looks me in the eyes and nods. He strokes my cheek and kisses it. If someone knew us longer, they’d think it’s our signal, our sign. The wind starts blowing harder and it makes Hannibal’s hair fall into my eyes and on my face. I chuckle softly and almost choke on his hair. He hasn’t had it cut for some time and it may be the longest I’ve ever seen on him. It suits him anyway. Hannibal moves away and stands up. We’re ready. We’re not afraid of this man and now we’re ready to face him.

~~~~~~~~~~

We enter the house as if nothing happened, Hannibal has his hand on my back and ushers me inside. I don’t turn on the light but go straight to the living room. Hannibal follows. He pours us a drink and we sit on the couch to enjoy the rest of the evening. It’s dark but we see everything clearly. We’ve been living in this house for a while and we know every corner.

I’m not exactly sure what to expect of the night but it doesn’t scare me. I want to explore possibilities.

I put down my glass and reach for Hannibal’s face in the darkness. I touch his cheeks and eyes like a blind person and I can already hear his heart beating faster.

Suddenly, the lights are on and it’s so bright I can barely see anything. I glance in the switch’s direction and I see the man from the restaurant. He broke into our house. He was waiting for us. He saw us.

The man is holding the gun in his right hand and he’s looking at us. Without as much as having a glimpse at Hannibal, I squeezes his hand and he clears his throat. Everything’s alright. Hannibal straightens on the couch and relaxes.

“It’s rude to break into people’s houses.” Hannibal says, his tone is calm and mocking.

“I assumed you wouldn’t let me in if I politely knocked on the door.” The man answers.

I look at Hannibal and try to read his face. He’s obviously startled by the man and he seems to notice what I noticed, which was a strange familiarity.

“What do you want?” Hannibal asks, succeeding in hiding the fact that he’s honestly puzzled.

“You’re the psychiatrist. You tell me.” The man seems amused but we’re not having the joke.

“Psychiatry has nothing to do with mind-reading. Let me ask you again, then. What do you want?” Hannibal folds his hands on his lap.

“The best you can give me.” The man answers and takes a step closer to us. “I haven’t told anyone I’ve seen you so you’re still formally dead. But I took a few pictures and they’re in a safe place. If you want to stay dead, I suggest you make me an offer.”

This is stupid. What could we possibly give that man? Does he want money? The police and the FBI I’m sure would offer him more than we can. He won’t be famous. There’s no advantage.

Hannibal interrupts my thinking by placing his hand on my crotch. Not the best moment, is it? My erection has faded and…oh! I look at the man’s trousers and see. He’s half-hard, whether from watching us earlier or from the adrenaline that he’s doing something so unimaginable as threatening two serial killers. I blink and slowly stand up. My smile appears mischievous and promises something inappropriate. The man keeps his eyes on me but points his gun at Hannibal. I approach him and stand so close I can feel his breath on my face. I’m disgusted but I touch his waist.

“Do you want to join us?” I ask; my voice is low and steady. I move my hand lower to brush gently against his abdomen and then thighs. I caress him, look for soft spots. “Would you like to hunt with us? And then…” I reach for the zipper in his pants and he smiles. Suddenly, he grabs my hand. The smile disappears from his face. He twists my arm but I try to make him drop the gun. Hannibal quickly jumps and in no time he’s by my side. He punches the man in the face and then grabs his wrist to twist it so that the man finally drops the gun. He releases me from his hold and I help Hannibal pin him to the wall.

“Where are those photos?” Hannibal asks and the man smiles again. His lip is cut from the blow and he’s bleeding but he’s not giving up. Bastard. Hannibal punches him in the stomach but it’s not helping. The man chuckles.

Hannibal looks at me and I nod. We take the man to the basement and force him to sit on a chair. I tie him up with a rope and duct tape and we decide to leave the room to think what to do next and give him some time.

We can threaten him. We can torture him. Finally we can kill him and hope he was bluffing or that no one else knows about the photos. We need to stay dead. That’s what offers us peace. We are not hunted, not wanted, so we are free to do and be wherever we want.

“We can’t release him now.” I observe.

“Let’s check if he’s got any documents on him.” Hannibal proposes.

“Let me handle it.”

I go back to the basement and look at the man. We didn’t gag him or shut his mouth with a duct tape yet he’s not screaming. He’s either aware no one can hear him or he’s that sure he’ll have his way with us.

“We started on the wrong foot. Let’s start again. What’s your name?” I ask and grab another chair to sit opposite the man. I cross my legs and act relaxed. Like Hannibal during his therapies.

The man smiles faintly; this is a farce, I know, but maybe I can get him to talk without using violence. Let’s say I had a good day and am not in the mood for teaching someone a lesson.

“Tell me your name so that I know to whom I make my offer.” I repeat and look at his cut lip. “I could get you a plaster for that.” I point at his mouth with my hand.

“I appreciate the gesture.” He answers but doesn’t reveal his identity.

“I felt how hard you were when I touched you. Was it me or…?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I mean, Lecter obviously see something in you but I’m not gay.”

I want to spit in his face. I chuckle and extend my hand to loosen the bounds a little. I pretend to touch his thighs on accident. He looks at my hands and then into my eyes, he knows what I’m doing.

“You know, I used to be married. I wouldn’t call myself gay, either.” I explain and check his reaction. I remain close to him but not enough for him to bite me. He nods, he obviously did the research.

“So what was that affection all about? Earlier, in the living room.”

I blink. How do I explain that to the man? How do I explain it to myself? I need to change the topic, I was supposed to get information, not justify myself to the stranger.

“Why did you reach us?” I ask and look at the man with genuine curiosity.

“I believe I made myself clear. I’m wondering what you’ll do in order to protect your freedom.”

“You don’t want money.” I say. That, I’m certain of. The man snorts and clears his throat.

“Could you bring me some water?” He asks.

“We’re dangerous. What could you possibly want from us?”

“Let’s say you have something that I value and have spent my whole life looking for.”

“Recognition.” I say, my voice is clear but low like I was speaking to myself. He nods. Unfortunately, I understand him. I stand up and check his pockets for any documents. There is a driving licence and a receipt from the restaurant. I leave the basement and go to the kitchen to get the man some water.

Hannibal reads the driving licence I throw on the table and carefully looks at the photo. He frowns. We’re both thinking whether or not we’ve crossed paths with this man before.

“He’s got my old driving licence. Had the police found it, we’d be in trouble.” I comment and pour myself a drink.

“That makes me believe he’s not lying about the photos.”

“Do you know what he wants? The exact thing we wanted. He craves being seen.”

Hannibal narrows his eyes and thinks about my words. He’s forming a plan in his head.

“Well, why don’t we invite the man to our small group and allow him a peak.”

“A taste?” I ask and Hannibal smiles. He’s relaxed, his smile is wide and his eyes glisten.

I take a glass of water and go back to the basement. The two chairs are empty and I raise one corner of my mouth. I loosened the knots and the man freed himself. He’s standing in the centre of the basement, waiting for me. I approach him and hand him the glass with water. He takes it from me and drinks.

“We’d like you to join us for dinner.” I say and he nods. So that’s it. We’ll sit, dine and talk.

I turn my back to the man and head upstairs. The man follows me. We enter the dining room where Hannibal has served some left-overs from the yesterday. Our uninvited guest is seated at the head of the table while Hannibal and I sit opposite each other, by his two sides.

“Do you expect to be given a set of rules?” I hear Hannibal ask and I want to chuckle but I remain serious.

“I’m aware I caused you trouble and…” The man starts his little speech when I look at Hannibal and our eyes agree on the next part. I grab my fork and he reaches for his knife. He turn to the man in unison and drive in the cutlery into the man’s palms on the table. We’ve been reading him since he sat down and now was the perfect moment.

The man screams, finally, genuinely surprised by our actions and he obviously wants to get rid of the sharp tools pinning his hands to the surface of the table. I reach for the knife lying by my plate and glance at Hannibal once more. He smiles as I slit the stranger’s throat. The blood sprays all over the table and our clothes.

It hasn’t happen since our fight with the Dragon. We try to be careful and never leave any traces. Now this will require a lot of cleaning.

The man starts choking on his own blood and he evidently wants to set himself free from the knife and fork keeping him in place but he can’t. He hisses and coughs and it’s a matter of seconds now. We could have tortured him, kept him in our basement for weeks, allow him to taste his own flesh. Are we merciful? Well, I wouldn’t call it exactly that.

The man wriggles in his chair for a moment longer and then we witness his least breath. I look at Hannibal, whose eyes appear quite black with red sparks in the middle. I reach for the tissue lying on the table and wipe my mouth from the man’s blood.

Hannibal circles the table to approach me and when he’s only inches away I grab him by the neck and kiss him. I can feel his hunger and lust filling every space in his heart and brain. His hands find my waist and then my buttocks. I want to giggle at how weird it feels. I want him to squeeze me, I want him to make me his.

Hannibal’s aroused. His heavy cock presses against me through the fabrics of our trousers.

“Mmmm… We need to… Because he could…” I try to speak, be reasonable, even while Hannibal’s wet tongue explores my mouth and so I escape from his lusty embrace. I took out my phone and take a picture of the man who’s still bleeding out on our floor. Neither of us care about it now but tomorrow… I know I’ll end up bent over the floor and Hannibal won’t be able to keep his eyes and hands off me and we’ll… On the floor. On the bleached floor in the room where we killed a man. Nothing more arousing than that.

I go to the living room and turn on the laptop. I scan the picture through a browser to see if a name comes up. Nothing. The man was a loner. He doesn’t have friends and most possibly no one knows about his venture tonight. He didn’t even have a phone on him. Are we safe?

Hannibal goes to the basement and returns with the bleach and a basket. We move the body to the basement, wrapped in an old sheet and we proceed to cleaning up the dining room.

After half an hour the floor wears no stains and the table cloth is neatly folded in Hannibal’s hands. He motions me to follow him and so we go to the bathroom. Hannibal opens the laundry basket and throws the table cloth inside. Then he turns to me and memorizes every inch of how I look. Covered in blood, sweaty and entirely alive.

Hannibal steps closer to me and undoes the first button in my shirt. Then another. I surrender to that until he parts the shirt and lets it fall on the tiles underneath. He reaches for my belt and it lands next to the shirt in no time. I can’t resist any longer and I throw myself at him. I kiss his lips, madly excited about his eagerness. My chest presses against his soaked shirt and I tug at it, until the buttons pop open and a patch of hair reveals before my eyes.

Hannibal groans and quickly unzips my pants. I follow suit. Our hands tremble and I laugh at how clumsy we get when we’re like this.

‘ _Lecter obviously see something in you but I’m not gay._ ’ I remember the man’s words. Am _I_ gay? I mean I crave this man’s touch like I’ve been waiting for it my whole life. I crave being intimate with him. Oh god, his lips on my neck, his hands pushing down my briefs. It’s getting difficult to breathe.

I deprive him of his underwear and he throws me in the shower. The water mixes with the blood on our bodies and the pink fluid disappears in the holes in the floor.

Hannibal’s hand reaches for my head and strokes my wet hair as he continues kissing me. A moan escapes my mouth as I open it to gulp for air. I grope at Hannibal, I want to feel his flesh under my fingertips. His smooth back, the slope of his ass. Our erections rub against each other and I throw my head back. I’m leaning against the cold tiles as Hannibal moves down to kiss my chest and lick my nipples. He checks for my reaction every other second and I love it. He’s selfless in his desire to please me. I’m on the other hand selfish. I force him to stand up and I turn to change our positions.

Hannibal’s leaning against the wall now as the water sprays over our bodies and I kneel in front of him. There’s something about our adventures that makes me horny and begging for it. I’m insatiable and I will work my mouth and hand numb just to feel Hannibal’s seed gush on my skin and inside my throat.

He looks down at me as I gently massage his balls and then take him slowly in my mouth. Inch by inch, I relax my gag reflex and indulge in hearing him moan. My tongue has had enough time and practice to master the skill so it swirls around the head and teases the slit. My lips close as tightly as possible to provoke Hannibal to surrender. He closes his eyes though I know he wants to keep looking at me. He wants to swallow the image of me on my knees, offering him pleasure. I know that’s one of the greatest gifts I could give him and he can barely stand it. The experience is so overwhelming, I’m afraid he’ll cry. It’s good he’s leaning against the wall because otherwise he might fall.

I suck him and feel the tension in my own body. The muscles in my thighs contract and that’s my sign to either finish him off or prolong the torture. I check Hannibal’s reaction and I know he wants it as much as I do. He wants to see my face stained with his love potion and I’m very keen to make his wish come true.

I lick his cock and feel the outline of the thick vein underneath. It’s pulsing impossibly and in a few seconds Hannibal’s hips buck forward and tremble as he’s achieving release. The feel of his sticky sperm on my mouth is the last piece of puzzle and I climax right after with a loud moan.

I wipe my face with the back of my hand and lick any remains. Hannibal loves it. It’s his guilty pleasure – seeing me so debauched. And I can’t defy how proud it makes me. No one has ever opened me up so much, both literally and metaphorically.

We shower and then go to bed. I wonder whether he’s up to something else tonight or if we call it a day. He always manages to surprise me.  I lie down and wait for his body to join me. I’ve never felt so comfortable being naked next to someone. I worship every second of this perfect corruption and pray for the future to condemn us.


End file.
